


Oh feathers to caress me now

by cooliopio



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Found Family, Gay Panic, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Recreational Drug Use, Song fic, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cooliopio/pseuds/cooliopio
Summary: William Poindexter was having a crisis. He was hiding out on the steps of the lighthouse, looking blankly out to the waves crashing on the jagged rocks below him, a cool breeze tossing his gentle curls about. He took shallow, even breaths in an attempt to self-soothe. His arms clutched his sides, nails digging into his soft flesh through the thin cotton of his jacket in an attempt to ground himself. His foot was tapping maybe a little too fast. He, for all intents and purposes, was in the midst of a panic attack.William Poindexter, from Conservative Maine to Samwell; learning to truly accept himself and come into his own person.
Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 106





	Oh feathers to caress me now

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings:  
> Homophobic Slurs  
> Panic Attacks  
> Two bros smokin' doobies?
> 
> This fic is based off the song "Two Turtle Doves" By Alana Henderson! Enchantingly haunting. Give it a listen!

_ We once were like two turtle doves _

_ On a bough up in the blue _

_ // _

William Poindexter was having a crisis. He was hiding out on the steps of the lighthouse, looking blankly out to the waves crashing on the jagged rocks below him, a cool breeze tossing his gentle curls about. He took shallow, even breaths in an attempt to self-soothe. His arms clutched his sides, nails digging into his soft flesh through the thin cotton of his jacket in an attempt to ground himself. His foot was tapping maybe a little too fast. He, for all intents and purposes, was in the midst of a panic attack. 

It’s a cool summer evening, three weeks before Will moves to Samwell to begin pre-season hockey, and he has been chased out of his house. Well. Not exactly. No one really  _ told  _ him to leave, but the shock in his father’s eyes and the hollowed cheeks of his mother told him everything he needed to. The rational side of his brain tells him that this may be all a misunderstanding, but he can’t stop thinking  _ disgrace disappointment failure. _

Will takes a final deep breath and closes his eyes, tilting his head towards the sky with his arms spread above his head to stretch before he slowly makes his way to his feet, his worn work boots scratching against the pavement as he makes his laziful stand. A sigh escapes his mouth, as he reaches for his phone in his back pocket, punching in the phone number he’s had memorized since he’s had a phone. 

The phone rings twice before it picks up.

“Hey, Aisling?” Will greets, voice impossibly soft. “Y-yeah. Well, no. I accidentally came out to mom and dad.” A pause. “I didn’t mean to! I was just talking about Samwell and they brought up the one in four thing and I--” he lets out a frustrated sigh as his sister cuts him off on the other end. “Yeah.That’d be nice. See you in twenty.” Will wordlessly pockets his phone and stands still, for just a moment. In this moment, his troubles cease to exist. He can only feel the breeze, smell the salt of the sea, and hear the birds crooning their all too annoying calls; the distant hum of motors and the crash of the violent waves. It’s almost as if he didn’t exist. Maybe, he thinks, that would be easier. 

With a resigned breath, Will squares his shoulders and lifts his chin, and begins his walk back home along the beaten path through the forest. He, dreading his return home, takes the extra time to notice the small things on the path. Blue bottle caps and crushed plastic bottles, paper wrappers that have been torn for bird nests, various small animal bones from the owls. He looks up and sees the setting sun filter through the tall maine trees and the occasional bird fly from branch to branch. He kicks an odd shaped, muddy-red rock along the path as he walks, bringing up clouds of dirt in his wake; he curls back into himself the closer he gets, his confidence dwindling. 

The Poindexter house is not much. A boxy two-story house with not much room, despite it being two stories, with white wood siding and a red tile roof, the paint chipping off both. The door hangs slightly askew from being slammed accidentally one too many times from the door jamb failing when hauling groceries inside, but it still latches, so they refuse to replace it. 

Will stares at the doorknob intensely, thinking through his plan before he walks inside; the door creaks, alerting his family of any arrival, so he has to be quick. One quick breath, and hes inside. 

“Will, honey, is that you?” he can hear his mom say. “I wanted to talk--” she begins, but is interrupted by Will. 

“I don’t want to talk. I’m here to grab a bag, and that’s it. I’m staying at Aisling’s tonight,” Will says, surprised by his voice's command, and even more surprised that it didn’t break. He turns abruptly away from his mom and drudges up the stairs to his room; he collects only a few shirts, a pair of pants, some underwear, and his phone charger. 

He’s out the door as quick as he came, and is soon in the arms of his older sister, Aisling. Her hair isn’t red like his, it’s a deep brown, stretching down to just above her hips; thick-rimmed glasses sitting high on her nose. 

“Hey there, Pea,” she says to him, voice soft but not pitying, “do you want something to drink?”

Will sniffs-- he hadn’t realized he was crying-- and wipes away at his face. “No,” he croaks, throat dry from crying. 

“Well, I’m going to make you drink anyway,” Aisling says, petting his head one final time before making her way to her apartment’s sink to fill up a glass from the tap. 

Will makes his way to her living room, taking purchase on one of her ratty green couches she got second-hand from their old neighbors and twisting himself in a blanket. 

Aisling sets the glass gently on the coffee table as to not make much noise and settles gently beside him, placing a reassuring hand on his ankle. 

“You know,” she says, “they don’t hate you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do."

Will’s eyes screw shut, face turning red, “No, you don’t!” he assures, voice raised but not quite yelling. “You didn’t see how blank dad’s eyes went or how--” he takes a deep breath to calm himself, voice quieting, “or how mom looked so disappointed.”

“Will, Pea--”

“I just. I love her so much and… I can’t have her hate me.” Will balls his fists and presses the heels to his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from flowing. It doesn’t work.

Aisling settles more deeply next to him, using his lower half as a pillow. “I know she doesn’t, pea.” Aisling closes her eyes and rubs gentle circles into Will’s ankle, “Do you want me to call her?”

Will stills even more so than he already was; his gentle sobs at a striking halt, as if he hadn’t considered the relationship with his conservative, rural parents being any part salvageable. Dex hums before vocalizing his answer, “yeah,” he confirms, “yeah I do.

“Alright,” Asling replies, shifting out of her position on the couch, “you go to bed-- you look beat. I’ll call her later.”

“Thanks, Aisling.”

“Of course, Pea. I love you.” Asling offers Will a gentle smile, radiant and grounding, and Will believes everything will be alright. 

Will smiles back, “I love you, too, Pod,” he breathes, before he lulls into sleep for the night. 

//

Will wakes up to the smell of pancakes and rhubarb jam-- an unconventional yet delicious topping in his opinion. 

“Hey Pea!” Aisling calls from the kitchen, “Breakfast is almost ready.”

Will rubs the sleep out of his eyes and twists out of the couch; his muscles and bones screaming in protest, sore from the night before. He pads the short way over to the breakfast bar, taking a seat on the stool as Aisling passes him a paper plate stacked with pancakes. 

“I called mom last night--” she starts before cut off by a groan from Will.

“Can’t this wait until after pancakes?” 

“No. Because you’re moping. And it’s fine!” Will perks up. “Will you were just looking into things. Look at me.” Will forces his gaze up to meet Aislings, his eyes meeting her piercing brown, just like their father’s. “She said that-- yes, they were surprised. And yes, it will be an adjustment to know you’re gay--”

“Bi.”

“Bi, whatever-- but they still love you, you’re still their son and they’re not going anywhere, alright?”

“Alright,” Will sighs, content, but the knots in his stomach don’t unravel

//

It’s not to say the Poindexter household is the most… tolerant. Ever since his accidental coming out and his subsequent freak out, his parents have been walking on eggshells. Well, it may be more accurate to say that they’re ignoring the fact he likes men completely, and prodding him about women. They love him-- he knows they do-- they’re his  _ parents _ and parents love unconditionally, right?

Right

But his parents give him longing, worried glances when they think he can’t tell, and always “hum” and “haw” at him bringing up anything remotely related to his bisexuality and his impending move out to Samwell. And he’s getting really sick of it; if his parent’s can’t fully accept him, he can’t wait to be in a place that does. 

He wants to be in a place where he can date whoever he wants without his parents judgement, or being so paranoid being out with a man that he nearly works himself into a panic attack. He just wants out of small-town Maine, for god’s sake. 

//

Suffice to say, his first semester at Samwell did  _ not _ go this way. What, with Nurse always accusing him of being racist and homophobic without any good reason, unwilling to listen to his defences or just misconstruing his words. He just wanted to be happy, here, at Samwell, but it seems he’s not entitled to that either. 

And, eventually, like all delicate glass, he has to break eventually. It’s a typical wednesday team-dinner at the haus, the team crowded around the table, elbows bumping, bodies bleeding into the living room due to lack of table space. Nursey is now sitting across from Dex-- because he goes by Dex now-- and Nursey is antagonizing him about one thing or another.

“All I’m saying Dex, is that you’re being insensitive.”

“How the fuck am I being insensitive?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nursey prods, cocky smirk plastered across his face, “I just think that you don’t really understand the risks of being gay in an unsafe environment. Like, fuck, Dex, kids get killed and shit for being gay.”

“I don’t--” Dex flounders for words and takes a few gasping breaths. “You know what, Nurse? Fuck you. Fuck you and your idea of gay danger-- you grew up in New-Fucking-York for christs sakes. Try fucking growing up gay in a conservative town in the middle of nowhere where your ‘friends’ make jokes about beating up faggots and putting those ‘women’ back in their places while you stand right the fuck next to them. I cant fucking do this anymore. Is this a fucking joke, Nurse? You haven’t experienced any of that shit like I have. Don’t fucking talk to me. Fuck. Fuck this shit, I’m out.” Dex heaves a breath, red in the face, his chair dropping to the floor as he stands hastily to make his escape out the front door. 

“Bro, Nurse, you may have gone a little too far…” Dex can hear someone, maybe Holster, say faintly in the dead silent Haus before the screen door crashes behind him. 

Dex finds himself sitting on the dock at the pond-- which, really isn’t a pond, he’s learned, but still called the pond-- staring down at his reflection, the water rippling occasionally as tears roll off his face; he makes no effort to stop them. He takes, again, short, even breaths to soothe himself, arms clutched at his sides with his fingernails digging into his skin; the tee shirt he’s wearing doesn’t offer much protection. 

Dex doesn’t know how long he sits on the dock before he hears someone approach. Maybe twenty minutes, maybe an hour. 

“Hey,” a voice choked, rough from-- what? Misuse? He guessed. 

Will took a deep breath and wiped at his face before turning to meet the person who tracked him down. It was Nursey, because of-fucking-course it was. 

“The fuck do you want?” Will bites, turning back around swiftly-- clearly communicating Nursey’s presence isn’t wanted. 

“I’m just… I’m sorry, okay?” Nurse says, voice wavering and weak. Dex doesn’t respond. “I shouldn’t have prodded you like that and… I shouldn’t have assumed anything about you. Just. Because. Yeah. You know?”

“Sure, Nurse,” Dex laughed without humor, “I know. You’ve told me a million times not to fucking assume shit about you just because you’re you. Oh how the turn tables.” Dex looked up to the sky at this moment; the night had gone dark and the moon reflected off his pale skin.

Nursey shifted in awkward silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. “I, uh, didn’t know you were gay.”

Will exhaled through his nose. “I’m Bi, technically. But, y’know, umbrella terms and all that.” 

“Yeah,” Nursey assured, “can I sit?”

Dex waved a lazy hand at the empty spot next to him, as if to say ‘to hell with it.’

Nursey sat carefully next to Dex, as if making any noise would scare him off like a feral cat. Or maybe a squirrel. Or maybe-- who knows. Not the point, Nursey. 

Dex continued to look up, but his eyes were closed; reminiscent of the scene back in Maine. But instead of fear, he felt relief, almost. That his team knew that he wasn’t straight and all the shit Nursey had been projecting onto him was false. He was happy, he thought, to finally have this new beginning in Samwell. He took a deep breath in, and out, before cracking his eyes open again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nursey light the end of a paper tube. 

“What the fuck,” Dex berated, “is that a cigarette?!”

“The fuck, no, it’s just a joint,” Nursey admitted. “Want a hit?” he said, plucking the joint off his lips, extending it to Dex in offering. A peace offering, perhaps. 

“Why not,” Dex acquiesced, “why the fuck not.” Dex plucked the joint from Nursey’s hand, knuckles brushing, and inhaled deeply. 

Maybe, Dex thought, This was the start of something good. 

//

Family weekend of his sophomore year came rapidly and without preparation-- in Dex’s mind at least. It seemed to sneak up on him, with practice and games and major-specific courses that were  _ hard. _ At least he and Nursey were doing better; Dex considered them to be good friends. 

Family weekend coincided with a game, and his family was a little too enthusiastic to attend. 

“Hockey is just so-- so masculine!” his mom crooned, faux-pride in her voice, hidding behind relief that her son wasn’t a ‘feminine gay.

Dex grunted in assent. He  _ really _ did not want to get into it with his mom-- ever. Especially not on family weekend where all the guys are around. Dex led his mom into the locker room after the game and everyone had cleaned up and re-dressed; a majority of the team were showing their parents around as well.

“Oh, Will, is that your manager?” Dex’s mom asked, pointing to…. Bitty. 

“No, He’s a player,” Will answered, jaw set firm and corners of his mouth taught. 

“He’s a player?!” She laughed, “Oh sweetie, you must be pulling my leg, he’s so small!” 

“No, mom. He’s a player. Number 15, Bittle? You just watched him play.” Dex was making a poor attempt of fighting his anger at this point. 

“Oh, I didn't expect youse guys to have player’s that small! Lord, they’re letting anyone on these teams nowadays! Even fairies, huh!” 

“Mom. Cut it out.”

“Oh, Will, you know i’m just having a little fun!” His mom’s eyes turned on him, condescending and cold. 

“No, mom. It’s not fucking funny--”

“You watch your mouth--”

“No, I fucking wont. You do know i’m one of those fucking faries you detest rigth? You know i fuck men, right? Or do you just ignore it because I also fuck women and am strong? Because fuck that-- mom-- that’s not who i am,” Dex scolded in a hushed voice, but failing to contain his anger and biting tone. More than a few concerned glances from teammates were being thrown his way. 

Dex sighed. “Mom, I need to get back to… to the Haus. I’ve got… homework to do. I’ll-- I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, Will left his mother alone as he made his way back to the Haus. 

Nursey, Ollie, and Wicky were the only other occupants upon his arrival to the Haus. Nursey heard the door shut a little harder than normally warranted and followed the trail of noise to the kitchen, where he found Dex, Head in his hands, breathing carefully. 

“Hey, man, whats up?” Nursey prodded gently, placing a firm but gentle hand on Dex’s back. 

“I just--” Dex tried to speak, but choked up in the process. He took a few deep, soothing breaths before trying again. “I just wish my mom accepted me more.” Nursed nodded, eyes trained on Dex, yet unmet. “We used to be so close but then… but then i came out, and all of a sudden it’s like she doesn’t see  _ me _ anymore, she just sees something she needs to fix. Or ignore until it ceases to exist. And “it” happens to be my strong preference for fucking men,” Dex concluded, a humorless laugh escaping his lips as he removed his hands from his face, turning into fists on the table. 

“I just wish I was loved, you know?” Dex revealed, voice but a whisper, impossibly soft with waves of emotion crashing beneath the surface as the waved once crashed against the harbour in Maine. 

Dex turned to Nursey, meeting his eyes for the first time. They were full of compassion and not-quite-pity and  _ yearning _ . Dex pressed into the palm on his back, welcoming the grounding pressure as Nursey pressed back firmly. 

“Dex, I--” Nursey whispered, aghast. “We love you, here. At Samwell. Fuck--” Nursey looked up at the light a moment, “Dex you’re fucking amazing at hockey and-- and at fixing the Haus, and helping chowder with his CS homework and being a good  _ friend _ , I…. Dex, you  _ are  _ loved. Fuck a toxic family; you’ve got us, alright?” Nursey emphasized his speech by rubbing small, firm circles on Dex’s upper back. 

“Yeah--” Dex agreed, his eyes flickering from Nursey’s eyes, to his quivering lip, back to his eyes, “I love youse guys too.

Nursey let out a stark laugh that broke the tender mood. “‘Youse guys?!’ Who the fuck says that!” Nursey only laughed harder, smiling wide as the tension diffused. 

Dex noticed the crinkle in Nursey’s eyes and how his smile grew crooked when he laughed genuinely, and-- oh. Fuck. 

//

Dex  _ Loves  _ his team. He  _ loves  _ Chowder and Tango and Louis and Hops and Ford and Whiskey but maybe, he thinks, he loves Nursey a little differently. 

After being elected captain, the plaque still heavy in hands, embraced in a group hug with Chowder and Nursey, he can’t help but notice the lingering touches Nursey offers, the sideways glances, and his overall closeness. The boys let up on him, Chowder bounding back quickly but Nursey’s hand taking it’s time sliding across Dex’s lower back. 

“You voted for me?” Dex asked, bewildered.

“Of course I voted for you, Dex,” Nursey looked at Dex with the roundest, compassionate eyes, conveying admiration and love and-- maybe, Dex thought, his feelings weren’t so one-sided. 

“I can’t believe we’re going to be seniors!” Chowder laughed.

“Oh, fuck, C! Stop!” Dex groaned, smiling. 

“Come on,” Nursey turned to Dex, “Let’s get outta here.”

“Alright,” Dex swallowed, “C, you coming with us?

Chowder and Nursey shared a knowing glance, “Nah, I’m meeting up with Cait right now. You two have fun!”

Nursey trailed behind Dex with less than a steps distance-- Dex was actually concerned that, one of these steps, Nursey was going to trip on the back of his shoes and crash into him. But he didn’t. Somehow. 

Nursey guided Dex to the Pond-- which isn’t really a pond-- and sat at the edge of the harbour, motioning for Dex to follow beside him. Once Dex obliged, Nursey seemingly pulled a joint from nowhere and lit it up. 

“You know,” Nursey began, “it all started here, for us.”

“What? Me having a panic attack at 8pm and you giving me weed to chill me out?” Dex joked. 

“Nah,” Nursey shook his head, taking a drag, “us understanding each other.” Nursey exhaled and passed the joint to Dex. 

“Yeah,” Dex took a drag, “I suppose so.” He exhaled, passing it back. “But I think ‘us’ began more sophomore year.”

“Oh?” Nursey crooked his head to look at Dex.

“Yeah. After my mom was a homophobic asshole on family weekend. When you assured me I was loved.” Dex motioned for the joint, and Nursey handed it to him easily. “I’m just going to be brave for a fucking minute,” Dex screwed his eyes shut and took a long drag off the joint, as if to ready himself and build confidence. “I think,” Dex exhaled, “Family weekend sophomore year was when I started falling for you.” 

“Falling for me?!” Nursey let out a surprised laugh. 

Dex scoffed, “Yes, ‘falling for you,’ don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing at that-- i promise!”

Dex hummed in affirmation as he took another hit. “You really made me understand love. I mean. Yeah, my parents love me, but they’re required to, aren’t they? They’re my parents. You helped me realize what it meant to be  _ loved. _ And I think i started falling in love with you right then and there, in the kitchen of the Haus.”

Nursey pinched closer to Dex. “You… have no idea how happy i am to hear that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah. You know when I started falling for you?” Nursey half-asked half-announced. 

“Oh?” Dex inquired, his reaction subdued from the weed but bounding with happiness nonetheless, “When?”

“Just what i told you. The night we were here and we smoked together. You looked up at the sky and the moon reflected off of you and-- fuck-- Dex, you were so beautiful, how could I have not started falling for you?"

Dex could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, as well as the muscles getting sore from all his smiling. 

“Who would’ve guessed we ended up here freshman year?” Dex quipped. 

Nursey let out a huff, “not even me. But i’m not mad at it. Are you?”

Dex shook his head, intertwining his free hand with Nursey’s, bridging the gap between them on the dock, turning his head towards Nursey-- no, Derek-- and leaning in. “Not at all.”

//

_ I never knew what love could do _

_ My dear 'til I met you _

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed, lmk any grammar/spelling errors LORD KNOWS i have a fucked up keyboard and didnt proofread this shit
> 
> also Aisling and Dex call eachother Pea and Pod... like Pea Pod.... is that... not adorable (in my head they are the oldest so then like their younger sibs are the peas in the PEAPOD damn im good)


End file.
